


Zaporizhzhya

by Pink_Dalek



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_Dalek/pseuds/Pink_Dalek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on John Finnemore's end-of-season cliffhanger. Sometimes, once in a while, things are absolutely brilliant for MJN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zaporizhzhya

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I’m cruel. The thought of BC having to pronounce the name of this town makes me laugh.

This week—Zaporizhzhya!

Douglas strolled into the portacabin only slightly late for once. In the nearly two weeks since their flight to Yverdons-les-Bains, Martin had been acting a little off, and Douglas was determined to find out why. At first, he’d thought Martin was coming down from a disastrous interview. Now, he was wondering just what was going on, and, although he would never admit it to anyone, he was worried about his fussy little captain. Just a bit, of course. 

The entire portacabin proved to be off. Carolyn was in her office, door closed, murmuring on her phone. Martin was at his desk, oddly watchful. Arthur was perched on one side of the sagging sofa, worrying a tissue into a disintegrating ball of fluff. Martin’s changeable eyes were steel grey as he looked up at Douglas. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured as Douglas put down his newspaper and flight bag.

Something in his tone made Douglas lower his own voice. “What happened?”

“Gordon’s dead.”

‘One less SOB in the world,’ was Douglas’s first thought. “Heart attack? Stroke?” 

“Accident. He decided to celebrate his 70th birthday by skydiving. He’d never done it before, and—you know how on your first jump, you’re strapped to someone with actual skydiving experience?”

“I’ve heard that’s how they do it. Jumping out of a perfectly good aeroplane isn’t on my bucket list.”

“Gordon decided he didn’t need that, and refused to jump with someone else. They argued with him, he went into full-Gordon mode, I assume, and they finally made him sign a special waiver and let him go for it. So he jumped without the instructor, after a three-hour orientation, and got so caught up that he forgot to pull the cord until it was too late.”

“Leaving a Gordon Shappey-shaped dent somewhere on the planet, I take it.”

“In the Australian outback.”

Douglas shook his head and sighed heavily. “No fool like a damned fool. I wish I could find it in my heart to feel badly for him, but my immediate concern is closer to home. How are they holding up?” he twitched his head toward the others.

“Carolyn is Carolyn. She’s on the phone making arrangements for us to continue on to Sydney after we drop off Mr. Alyakhin’s latest group of yacht-shoppers. Arthur is having more trouble. I’ve never seen him so quiet.”

Douglas went over to the sofa and sat beside Arthur. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad.”

“Thanks, Douglas.” Arthur managed a weak version of his usual radiant smile.

“How are you feeling?”

The younger man shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I mean, he’s my dad. But he’s—well, you’ve met him.”

“Indeed.”

“So you know he’s not exactly, well—he’s—he’s.”

“I know, Arthur.” The thing that stuck out in his mind was the memory of Arthur proudly presenting his dad with a bottle of Gordon’s Gin. Sure he was a grown man, but one with the worldview of a child. Douglas treasured every little lopsided handmade gift Verity had ever made for him, and if she’d presented him with a Douglas Fir seedling for his garden, he’d have been perfectly gracious. And desperate to replace it the moment he accidentally killed it, so she’d never find out.

“And he’s always been so mean to Mum. It’s okay if he doesn’t like me, I know he’s disappointed in me. But there’s no call to treat Mum like he does—did. I mean, he must have loved her, to marry her. I’ve loved girls and had it not work out, usually they don’t want to go out anymore. And I don’t treat them badly, or say mean things about them. It’s just sad, is all.”

“It is indeed, Arthur.” Every time his latest marriage broke up, the overwhelming emotion was never anger, but sorrow at the death of a dream. “And there’s no call for him to treat you the way he does. Only a fool would be disappointed in you.” Douglas knew people who’d lost children to cancer or drugs. Any one of them would have been thrilled to only have their kid turn out like Arthur instead.

Arthur twisted the remnants of his fuzzy tissue yet again, leaning against Douglas’s shoulder for a long moment. “So I’m sad he’s dead. But,” his already-soft voice dropped further, as if confessing a dark secret. “But part of me is glad he won’t call up Mum trying to buy Gerti for a hundred quid, or just to shout at her. And that he can’t shout at me anymore.”

Douglas swallowed hard, putting an arm around Arthur’s shoulders and pulling the boy close in a hug. “It’s okay to feel that way. It really is.”

Carolyn opened her door. “I take it you’ve already heard,” she said quietly. Douglas nodded. He was sure she’d have a tart comment about her ex-husband the moment Arthur was out of the room, but unlike Gordon, she put her only child’s welfare first.

“Are we still going to Zapori—“ the name was nearly unpronounceable.

“Zaporizhzhya,” Martin offered.

“It’s worse than the name of that awful Polish bassoonist,” Carolyn griped. “Yes, we’re still picking up the yacht-shoppers in Ukraine and taking them to Singapore. Then we will continue on to Sydney and Gordon’s memorial. We’re leaving a bit later than we planned, so if you need to dash home to pack for an additional few days away, do it now.”

The memorial was full of Gordon’s rich friends and business associates, bringing back all sorts of bitter memories for Carolyn. She focused on looking after Arthur, while he focused on looking after her. The next day was the reading of Gordon’s will.

Arthur returned to the hotel looking shaken. “Dad didn’t have any other kids. He left part of his estate to Haley, but half of it is mine.” He flopped into a chair in the room Martin and Douglas were sharing. “It’s too much. I can never spend that much money. I mean, what am I going to do with one billion pounds and a jet? Haley got the rest and the other jet.”

“Dear God,” Martin breathed.

“I’d love to take a shot at doing something with it,” Douglas murmured dryly.

“Most of it’s invested, and it can just stay in the investments and they’ll send me the interest. That’s good. I can’t keep track of money. If I have more than thirty quid in my wallet, it gets a bit confusing.”

Arthur was unnaturally quiet the rest of the day. It wasn’t until they were flying back to Singapore to collect the yacht-shoppers that his natural liveliness returned.

“I’ve figured out what to do with the money,” he announced over dinner that night. Carolyn gave him a sharp look. “I’m sorry, Mum, but it’s my money to do with as I want, and this is what I want.”

“Yes, dear heart, but you don’t have to.”

“It’ll barely make a dent in the money. I could live to be a hundred and hardly spend any of it.” Arthur turned back to the others. “I’ve decided to invest in MJN. I’m going to pay off all Mum’s mortgages, so she doesn’t have to worry about the house anymore. And we can fix up Gerti, or use the other plane sometimes. It’s a Lockheed-McDonnell 314, so it’s really just a newer Gerti. Its call letters are GRTIJ—Gerti Jr.! How perfect is that?” He was starting to bounce in his chair. “And I was thinking—we can pay Skip so he won’t take that other job in Switzerland—“ Arthur’s brown eyes flew wide and he clamped a hand over his mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything about that, was I?” he managed, muffled, staring at Martin.

Douglas and Carolyn turned to stare at Martin too, who blushed so dark a red it looked painful. “I—I hadn’t decided whether to take the job with Swiss Airways.”

“You didn’t accept it on the spot?” Douglas asked. Martin thought he should savor the moment—he’d actually managed to gobsmack Douglas Richardson—but he was too busy trying not to slide down under the table.

Carolyn glared. “Why ever not, you idiot boy?”

“Because I don’t want to make MJN go under. You’re all my friends! I couldn’t do that to you!”

“But now you don’t have to, Skip! We can pay you what they would have, and you can stay with us!”

“Is this really what you want to do?” Douglas asked Arthur seriously.

“I’ve been trying to talk him out of it since he mentioned it last night, but he won’t listen,” Carolyn admitted.

“You told me to do whatever I want with the money, whatever makes me happy, Mum!”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, flying on Gerti with all of you makes me happier than anything else in the world. And this way, we can keep doing it! Skip won’t have to leave, and he won’t have to be a man with a van unless he wants to help people who need stuff moved. And Douglas won’t have to worry about finding another job if MJN goes under, so that little frowny line he gets between his eyebrows when he’s worried will go away, unless he’s worried about Verity. I don’t think I can do anything about that, but I’ll think about it some more. And you won’t have to worry about the house, Mum! It’ll be all paid for, and you can have a housekeeper again if you like. And all that will barely use any of the money! We can go on forever.”

“Well, not forever,” Carolyn said.

“I’ll have to retire as a pilot in a few years, Arthur,” Douglas said gently.

“That’s okay. You can run the business-y stuff for us then. I’ll bet you can get all sorts of people to fly on Gerti. You know so many people, and you’re brilliant! And then we’ll find a new pilot, and I can still be the cabin steward, and we’ll keep on flying!”

“Until Gerti drops out of the sky,” Douglas couldn’t help pointing out.

“But that’s what’s even more brilliant! We’ve got Gerti Jr. Maybe we should use Gerti Jr. anyway, and let Gerti rest a bit, just let her fly the special flights like Birling Day. She could probably use a bit of a break.” Arthur leaned on one hand, turning thoughtful. “Mum’s always been my family, of course, but we don’t have a lot of other family. Dad was—well, he was—you know how he was. He lived so far away, too. And Mum and Aunt Ruth don’t spend much time together. You guys are our family, and I don’t want to lose our family. If the money can help so we don’t all have to go to other places, then it’s well spent, I think.” Arthur’s gentle face was set with the sort of determination usually reserved for seeking out exotic Toblerones at duty-free.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Carolyn told them all firmly.

After dinner, in their shared room in a high-rise hotel overlooking the city lights of Singapore, Douglas fixed Martin with a look. “So you had a job offer from Swiss Airways all this time and you hadn’t decided whether to take it.”

“Exactly like I said at dinner,” Martin answered, focusing on running a lint roller over his uniform jacket so he wouldn’t have to look Douglas in the eye.

“You had the choice between a proper paid job with an actual airline, and being an unpaid pilot with an airdot that forces you to work as a man with a van and live in a tumbledown student house, and you were –debating the pros and cons.” Douglas was speaking slowly and clearly, as if he were talking to a particularly dim-witted person.

Martin nodded, still focused on his jacket. It wouldn’t hurt to make sure all the buttons were still sewn on securely.

“Martin Crieff, you have the sense of self-preservation of one of those gnats that gets into the shower and flies around while the water’s on.”

Martin’s hands dropped to his sides, heedless of the jacket that was now trailing on the floor and the lint roller adhering itself to his trouser leg. “I couldn’t just fly off to Zurich and leave the rest of you in the lurch! MJN would go under! What would happen to you—I mean, Arthur? It’s not like he could get another job.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Herc wanted to offer him a job as steward with Cal Air the first time he met Arthur, remember? I’m sure he’d put in a good word for him with Swiss Airways. And I’m not completely ready for the knacker’s just yet. I was thinking of applying to flying schools as an instructor. And what about your princess?”

“What about her?”

“Zurich is a hell of a lot closer to Liechtenstein than Fitton.”

Martin slumped still further. “Like it makes a difference.” He lifted his head. “Think about it, Douglas—she’s a princess and I’m a mediocre pilot. Do you really think, when it comes down to it, that she’s going to marry me?”

Douglas shrugged. “Look at Will and Kate.”

“Yeah, look at them—Kate’s from a wealthy family, she went to the best schools, and she’s gorgeous. Somebody like that has a chance of marrying royalty. Not homely little gingers with no money and a diploma from West Wokingham Comprehensive.” Martin straightened up, squaring his shoulders and giving his jacket one last look before he placed it in the cupboard. “No, I reconciled myself to reality long ago. I’m going to enjoy this thing with Theresa for as long as it lasts, and let her go gracefully when it’s over. Then when I’m back on the shelf, I can remind myself that a princess once thought I was something special. Who knows, maybe being a paid pilot and the ex of a princess will improve my chances.” He freed the lint roller from his trousers with only a momentary struggle.

“You think Carolyn’s going to let Arthur go through with his daft plan to rescue us all?”

“I don’t think she’s got a choice. Arthur’s legally an adult. He can do what he wants with his money. And I’ve never seen him look so determined.”

“He’ll be pouring money down a hole. MJN’s a money pit. Then again, he’s got a billion pounds to try to fill it with,” Douglas mused.

“Exactly. I was trying to calculate the interest he’ll get annually, and I keep losing zeroes. He’ll have enough to keep the business going with plenty left over without even touching the principal.” Martin finally turned to face his first officer lounging on the nearest double bed, leaned against the wall, and folded his arms, his own determined expression in place. “Besides, how many con men and gold diggers are going to crawl out of their holes once they learn about him, do you think? And he’s so trusting and has such optimistic faith in people, he’ll fall for every sob story and investment scheme he hears. It’ll be a full-time job looking after him, and Carolyn can’t do it alone.”

“She could use some help, you mean.”

“I don’t know how much good I can be, but I’m willing to give it my best shot. And a wily old smuggler like you can spot every angle a mile off.”

Douglas stretched luxuriously, preening. “It does take one to know one.”

A wry half-smile turned up the corner of Martin’s mouth. “It does indeed."

The subject of MJN didn’t come up again until they were settled into bed and the light was off.

“So if Arthur does save MJN, you’ll stay?” Douglas asked.

“Of course. All I need is a salary. And the money will go a lot further in Fitton. I was doing the calculations with Swiss Airways’ starting salary versus living expenses in Zurich, and I’d still be just this side of broke.” A sigh. “And flying with strangers, probably only have the same copilot occasionally, much less the same cabin crew.” In the darkness, Martin was more candid, and the glimpse into his thought process made his dithering over the job offer make more sense to Douglas.

Once the yacht-shoppers were safely dropped off at Zaporizhzhya, there was nothing to keep Carolyn and Arthur from arguing all the way back to Fitton about the inheritance. Martin and Douglas hunkered down in the flight deck and concentrated on flying the plane.

“I always wondered what he inherited from Carolyn,” Douglas admitted.

“And now we know. Her stubbornness.”

In the end, Arthur won. He was, as Martin had noted, an adult, and could do what he liked with his inheritance. Within a month, Martin was being paid the same salary as Douglas, which meant that he, too, had more money than he knew what to do with. By the time MJN’s debts and the mortgages on Carolyn’s house were paid off, Martin had a flat and a gas-sipping little gently-used car.

Gerti Jr. was a dream to fly, although Gerti still made a fair number of trips. She did the short hops, while Junior, as they took to calling her, took the longer flights. It took some getting used to.

“I’m waiting for a warning to go off,” Martin said during one takeoff.

“I’m waiting for a bit to fall off,” Douglas admitted.

“It’s too quiet without that weird rattle at 18000 feet. You know, the one on ascents but not descents.”

Douglas obligingly rattled his keys as they passed that mark. Martin laughed. “That’s not quite it.”

“Closest I could get on short notice.”

Without the burden of debt MJN started to break even. When they were between jobs, Arthur paid them to fly to various destinations that caught his fancy. They actually made it to Kuala Lumpur, and had to deal with his disappointment that there were no koalas or oompa-loompas. They visited the polar bears more than once, and went to California to see sea otters. In between, Douglas ran interference with various con artists, and even Martin got reasonably good at chasing them off.

“I could do this forever!” Arthur exulted over dinner in New Orleans. This had been a flight to drop off a group of tourists going to Mardi Gras.

Douglas and Carolyn gave each other a look that Martin noticed. He raised his wine glass.

“Forever’s a long time,” he said. “But I can do this for as long as it lasts.”

Another wine glass and two glasses of pineapple juice joined his. “As long as it lasts,” the others echoed.


End file.
